After the Fall
by Rebecca Hb
Summary: Hermione Granger is a Gryffindor, and she isn't going to stop being brave or taking care of people just because everything has come crashing down. WARNING: Post-apocalyptic oneshot.


**After the Fall**

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It was Wednesday, and Hermione packed a basket of green onions and potatoes. She balanced it on her hip and left the warmth of the Herbology greenhouse, trekking up to the sullen castle that loomed over her home.

Hogwarts was dark and empty, except for the ghosts and paintings. The bodies had gradually vanished over the last three months, at least from the areas she ventured into. It made her happy to not see her classmates' bodies contorted in pain, broken green sores covering their bodies. There was something serenely calming about the emptiness.

She hummed, some tune from the Wyrd Sisters before everything came down. Humming kept the ghosts away.

She didn't want to deal with the ghosts.

Four months ago, the plague had come. Hermione didn't remember much of it - _trauma-induced amnesia_, she diagnosed coolly - so for her the world stopped one day, and started again a month later in the Herbology greenhouse. It had been warm there, and she'd woken up slowly from being curled up in a nest made of bagged dirt and leaves.

She'd woken up with green scars on her skin underneath her robes.

The first month had been the hardest. She'd hardly dared venture into Hogwarts, but she'd needed food. Eventually she hit on the solution of walking to the kitchens without looking any way but straight ahead, then using her magic to levitate out enough food to last her for several days. The Herbology greenhouse was warm and safe, so she slept there most of the time, though she'd brought a bed from the castle to make it more comfortable.

Then there were the books. She left most of them in the library, because the greenhouse was no environment for keeping books intact. But she'd taken some down to have on hand for reference. For the first time in her life, Hermione found Herbology to be the most important kind of magic in the world. She needed to eat, after all.

Hermione ducked into a side-passage, still humming as it sloped downwards. The air in the dungeons was cooler than upstairs, dank, and just a little foul. Things scuttled in the dark.

Sickly green luminescence shone out from underneath Hermione's robes. She needed to find thicker clothes, she decided. Maybe it was time to prowl through the Ravenclaw tower.

Even if the light did make it easier to read at night. It would be nice to have to worry about the things in the dark, though.

Not be something the things in the dark avoided.

She raised her hand and rapped on the door to the Potions classroom. "Professor, I brought you some food."

The click of the lock sounded, and the door swung open to reveal Professor Snape. He looked drawn and haggard, sickly pale as if he didn't get any sun, and his eyes sunk deep in their sockets. His hair was as limp and oily as it had ever been during school, though. "Miss Granger," he said quietly, "I've told you I don't need this."

"Conjured food isn't as healthy as real food," she replied and stepped forward.

He gave her a withering look, which she just shrugged off, and allowed her to step inside the classroom. It was blazingly bright in there, like it had never been during school. The green glow emanating from Hermione vanished, drowned out by the brighter light. The desks had been shoved together, providing a base for a rather elaborate working of magic-craft. It looked like a very elaborate scrying tool to Hermione's eyes, and she'd managed to figure out most of the bits and pieces of it but not enough to be sure what the **whole** created.

Professor Snape closed the door behind her and locked it. "Hogwarts and Hogsmeade are still under an enforced interdiction. No one outside will answer me when I try to contact them."

Hermione nodded and did not voice the opinion that perhaps there **was** no one out there to answer. She didn't think the professor could handle that idea just yet. "We'll manage. I'm growing some interesting things in the greenhouse. We should have kidney beans next week and American squash."

She set her basket down and bustled over to a cabinet to collect her cooking supplies. A cauldron, knives, spices from the kitchen, a bit of flour to thicken the soup. She ignored the conjured food. He could eat it for dinner if he liked, but she'd see to it the professor got at least one real meal a day.

She busied herself with preparing the soup while he settled down in his chair. His bones creaked, which she pretended not to hear. He didn't speak to her, of course, and she pretended not to mind that. If she wanted real conversation, there were other people she could talk to.

She just preferred to hum them away.

Once the soup was simmering, she went back to the cabinet to fetch another cauldron and some tea. They'd be running out soon, by her estimate, but maybe she could coax the greenhouses to grow some tea bushes. The difficult part would be getting one to start with.

She might have to transfigure something. She didn't know how that would effect the nutrients or taste of the tea, but it would be better than not having any tea at all. They both needed the tiny illusion of normality that tea provided.

She filled the other cauldron with water and set it to boil. Some part of her missed the convenience of being able to sneak down to the kitchens and make tea with the house-elves. She hadn't had to worry about how much tea they had then, because they'd always had enough.

They _would_ always have enough now, she decided.

Hermione put the tea leaves into the cauldron to steep, then checked on the soup. She added a little salt and pepper there, then went about cleaning up her workspace.

Professor Snape watched her.

She lifted her head to smile at him. "Lunch will be ready in a little while, Professor."

**-End-**


End file.
